


Unraveled

by Bandity



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Depression, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Langst, Mental Health Issues, Schizophrenia, Suicidal Thoughts, kind of, surprisingly nobody pukes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-21 21:07:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30027867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bandity/pseuds/Bandity
Summary: If you move from one edge of the galaxy to the other, the view on the observation deck should change.The same orange nebula shouldn't be smack in the middle of the stars. Always glowing softly, emitting sparkling lights when he looked at it.Seeing it was weird enough, but then he began hearing it....at first, the voice was kind. He almost enjoyed sitting and listening for the quiet reassurances that came as he sat alone.But time went on and the voice changed.
Comments: 37
Kudos: 69





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here we are at the first chapter of the schizophrenia fic. Now, I researched this topic to the best of my ability and I tried my best to portray schizophrenia in a believable way. That being said, I do not have schizophrenia and I am sure that there are moments where my portrayal falls flat. However, I have done my best with the topic.
> 
> This fic is actually two of my fake title prompts combined: The Nebula and Unraveled. Please enjoy the fic and ignore mistakes.

Unraveled

It started with a light and a soft voice.

They hadn't been in space for very long when Lance was staring out into the stars, thinking about home. His eyes fell upon a far off nebula and into his ears came the softest whisper.

“You are not alone.”

Lance was drifting off to sleep and he only hummed in response before he sunk deeper into the cocoon of blankets he had created.

As he shut his eyes, he saw the nebula blur and the light within it went out.

* * *

"Has anyone seen Lance?"

The question from Shiro was met with silence. Hunk had been hunched over looking at some schematics with Pidge; they had been arguing about new propulsion engines for their lions. However, at the mention of his friend, his head shot up and he glanced around the common room. Keith was there, sitting on the couch, looking at a datapad and Allura and Coran were nearby discussing the next planet they would be visiting for supplies. Hunk’s eyes widened, realizing that Lance wasn’t there. He had assumed they were all hanging out in the common room together and he had figured Lance was in the background somewhere.

Pidge glanced up from the schematics as well.

“He’s probably on the big observation deck. He’s been sitting there a lot lately.”

“Oh.” Shiro scratched the back of his head. They hadn’t been in space for too long, but it was no secret that Lance felt homesick. “I just didn’t see him at lunch.”

Hunk got to his feet.

“I’ll go check on him.”

Shiro nodded. It was probably for the best. Hunk knew Lance better than he did.

* * *

Hunk felt bad for not noticing that Lance wasn’t around. He didn’t mean to ignore his friend. Sometimes he just got a little caught up in his own projects.

He would definitely ask Lance what he wanted to eat for dinner. He’d let his friend pick. That would make up for it.

The doors to the observation deck swished open and Hunk caught the tail end of a conversation.

“I don’t know how to do that though.”

“Lance?” Hunk glanced around. Nobody else was there, not even the space mice that were known to pay them all visits from time to time. Lance was sitting up, wrapped in his favorite comforter leaning his head against the viewing glass. The expansive window stretched out from floor to ceiling and took up nearly the entire wall of the room. The view was one of the reasons Lance liked to sit up here.

Lance had gone quiet and still at Hunk’s arrival.

Hunk figured he was embarrassed at being found talking to himself. It wasn’t a big deal, Hunk talked to himself when he was working out problems all the time.

“Hey,” Hunk approached casually with an easy grin. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“What?” Lance tilted his head, but didn’t turn around.

“What do you want to eat tonight? Your turn to pick.”

Lance was pressing his forehead into the window. And, while he didn’t seem to be upset, his body tensed when Hunk got closer.

“It’s cold,” Lance mumbled.

“What?” Hunk slowly knelt down. Had Lance misheard him? Lance jumped slightly, apparently becoming aware of Hunk’s proximity. He finally turned his head and blinked, confusion moving across his features.

“What?” Lance looked back at the door and then back to his friend. “What?” He repeated, sounding more confused.

“I said it’s your turn to pick for dinner. What do you want?”

“Oh.” Lance furrowed his brow. “I don’t know. I’m not super hungry.”

Hunk hummed as he thought about it. Lance hadn’t been around during lunch and he hadn’t seen him eat breakfast. He had assumed Lance was just eating at different times, but…

“Lance, are you still in your pajamas?”

Lance glanced down, seemingly surprised at his own appearance.

“Yeah.”

“Are you having a pajama day? I know Shiro gave us the day off from training, so it’s cool. I was just….”

Concerned? Hunk didn’t know if he should be worried or not. If Lance wanted to take some time and stay in his pajamas, there wasn’t a problem.

But he was sitting up here alone. And nobody seemed to know if he had eaten.

Lance was staring back out into space again. After a moment, he quickly glanced back at Hunk and then out into the stars. As if expecting Hunk to comment about something out there. Hunk followed his friend’s gaze, but he didn’t see anything unusual.

“Do you want to help me make dinner? We can try the new spices I picked up.”

Lance frowned.

"I'm not super hungry," he repeated.

"Are you not feeling well?" Hunk tilted his head, trying to get a better look at his friend. That could explain it. Maybe it wasn't just homesickness, maybe Lance had a stomach ache.

Lance shrugged and then seemed to think it over.

"No. I'll be down soon."

Hunk forced a grin. "I'll make macaroni and cheese, that's good right?"

"Uh-huh." Lance didn’t look at him again.

Hunk left soon after, thinking Lance just wanted some time alone. The exchange seemed odd, strained even, but Hunk was sure a good meal would set things right.

He hummed to himself on his way to the kitchen.

Macaroni and cheese and garlic knots and ice cream for dessert. Comfort food at its finest.

Perfect for homesickness.

* * *

Lance didn't show up to dinner that night.

* * *

"I think he's sick," Hunk said.

Because when Lance failed to show up to dinner, Hunk had gone to check on him. He found Lance in bed, claiming to be tired. And when Hunk tried to talk to him more, he pulled the blanket over his head and went quiet.

"Maybe he just needs some time alone," Pidge muttered.

Hunk shuffled the schematics they were reviewing.

"Maybe."

Hunk wanted to press, he wanted to make sure, but maybe Lance just wanted to be alone. Maybe Hunk was annoying him. Maybe Lance wasn't skipping meals, he could have just been eating alone.

"Maybe," Hunk repeated, ignoring the nagging feeling in his gut.

* * *

Lance was staring. Concentrating hard.

They had been moving across the galaxy, fighting the Galra, helping people, visiting new planets. He wasn't the smartest member of their group by far, but he understood basic things. Like if you move from one edge of the galaxy to the other, the view on the observation deck should change.

The same orange nebula shouldn't be smack in the middle of the stars. Always glowing softly, emitting sparkling lights when he looked at it.

Seeing it was weird enough, but then he began hearing it.

It whispered at first.

And he thought he was imagining it. But then it got louder. Incessant. It not only spoke to him on the observation deck, but soon it followed him around the ship.

It didn't sound like it was just in his head. He heard the words as though they were spoken right next to him.

Space was weird. And he was a bit superstitious, so he thought it was ghosts or even something like an angel.

Because at first, the voice was kind. He almost enjoyed sitting and listening for the quiet reassurances that came as he sat alone.

But time went on and the voice changed.

"Come outside."

Lance blinked at the nebula. The voice insisted.

"Come outside."

Lance declined. Stating the reasons he couldn't. Space was cold, he had to train, he didn't have his armor ready.

"Leave the armor."

He had stood and walked away from the observation deck that day. The voice went quiet. He didn't hear anything for a few days, but then, when he was tired and trying to sleep...

"Come outside. Help me."

"Can't," Lance insisted. He wanted to help the voice, but he was scared. This didn't seem right.

Why didn't anyone else on the team comment on the nebula that was always right outside the glass? Why didn't it show up when Coran projected images of their surroundings in the control room? Why didn't anyone else hear it?

"You're stupid if you don't do it. Come outside."

Lance reached for the headphones that were beside the bed. He slipped them over his ears and buried his head in the blankets.

The voice went silent.

* * *

Lance's hair was getting too long. It surprised Hunk because Lance was usually pretty careful about keeping it trimmed. It was all part of his daily routine. Though, now that Hunk thought of it, when was the last time Lance had complained about not having enough time for his face moisturizing routine? He used to always complain if woken up too early or interrupted before bed.

Lance hadn't been complaining about any of that lately. Hunk didn't usually notice, but now that he thought about it, Lance looked… tired? Pale and rundown. His complexion looked off too.

How could Lance of all people just stop caring about how he looked out of nowhere?

"Hey," Hunk piped up when he saw Lance on a couch in a common room. "Coran says there's a market on T'yliin, do you want to go? They probably have some cool alien moisturizers."

Lance glanced over at Hunk before he shook his head without a word.

Anything else Hunk said seemed lost on Lance. His friend just stared off into the distance and after a few moments, he got up and silently walked out of the room.

Hunk stared after him, too surprised to speak. Was this really just homesickness? Lance seemed really out of it. He didn't even seem like the same person anymore.

At a loss for what to do, Hunk decided to talk to Shiro tomorrow, hoping he would have some idea of what was going on.

Shiro was their leader and an adult after all. He would be able to help.

* * *

It was late.

Lance could tell by the way his eyes stung, from the way his vision blurred as he stared out the window. He had been sitting and staring for hours at that familiar nebula. It sparked under his gaze.

And it whispered.

Nonstop, it spoke. He shut his eyes and shook his head. It had changed. He was sure it had.

Demanding and insulting, it carried on without ceasing.

Blackness spread out from the nebula and he watched as it leaked through the window, spread across the floor and encircled around him.

Lance was terrified of it. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath. After a moment, he opened his eyes, hoping the darkness had receded, but instead he saw the corner of the room go pitch black.

In front of him, the shifting darkness settled into a shape. A tall hooded figure loomed from the corner. There was silence and then it inched forward.

That's when the screaming started.

Someone crying and screaming for help mixed with a horrible hissing noise that sounded like a large snake.

Blackness spread out from the figure, it pooled across the floor, rapidly flowing towards Lance.

"Help me! Help me!"

So close, it was going to get him. It was going to get him. The sound of hideous laughter sounded in Lance's ears.

With a blind panic, Lance scrambled from his place.

The laughter followed him out of the room.

* * *

Hunk wasn't asleep yet. He had been staring at his ceiling, thinking.

The sound at his door startled him. Not just a knock, but a frantic scrabbling and the choked sounds of someone sobbing.

Hunk jumped to the door, scrambling to unlock it and open it as quickly as possible.

Lance burst into the room, knocking Hunk's shoulder on his way in.

"Lance!" Hunk's surprised shout fell on deaf ears as Lance stopped in the center of the room and began turning in place. His eyes darted from one corner to the next. Again and again he turned, desperately searching.

There were tears in his eyes and his breaths noisily heaved in his chest.

Hunk couldn't tell if he was trying to say something or if he was choking on sobs.

"Lance, hey," Hunk lowered his voice. He cautiously stepped forward, arms extended outward, trying to appear as calm and nonthreatening as possible.

Once he was within arm's reach, Lance stopped spinning in place and he faced Hunk, but his eyes still darted about the room.

"Lance?" Hunk questioned gently. Lance inhaled loudly before he quickly reached out and tapped Hunk's shoulder. He then exhaled and grabbed onto his friend's sleeve.

"Hunk," Lance whispered roughly. Hunk's hands fell at his friend's elbows, not quite a hug, but trying to support him as Lance sagged on his next exhale.

"You're real," Lance gasped out before he sunk to his knees.

Hunk quickly followed, keeping his friend from collapsing completely on the floor.

"What?" Hunk's hands fell on Lance's shoulder and back. "What did you say?"

Lance pressed his face into Hunk's shoulder and cried.

"Oh, you're okay. You're okay." Hunk rubbed his friend's back. "Lance," Hunk swallowed down his fear and worry before he started crying too. "What happened? What's going on?" Hunk's fingers brushed through hair that was too long and greasy. "What's _wrong_?"

Lance didn't answer him.

Instead, he sobbed and sobbed, pressing his face hard into Hunk's shoulder. Hunk fought back his own tears and panic.

Lance wasn't okay.

Something was really wrong.

"Did something happen?" Hunk whispered. Lance shuddered, but did not answer. "You can- you know you can tell me, right? Whatever happened, you can tell me."

Lance shook his head and Hunk was relieved for a response, but he was hurt by it's insinuation.

"You _can_ talk to me though... or someone else maybe?"

Lance shook his head and slowly his fingers clawed upward until he was covering his ears.

"Stop," Lance hissed out. Hunk halted his ministrations, his hands falling to rest on Lance's shoulders.

"Okay," Hunk whispered. Even though it wasn't. This wasn't okay at all. "I'll stop."

Lance leaned back, pulling away from Hunk's loose hold. Lance's hands fell away from his ears. He stared up at Hunk, with red, puffy eyes and he blinked several times.

"I wasn't talking to you," Lance breathed out.

"What?" Hunk felt like he hadn't heard correctly. "What do you mean?"

But Lance's face crumpled. He hid his twisted expression away behind his hands as he began crying anew. His fingers pressed into his eyelids, over his ears; they clawed into his hair and pulled at the strands there. Lance fell forward.

Hunk caught him in his arms once more.

* * *

Exhaustion, Hunk had thought. Because Lance passed out in his arms and wouldn't wake up. Even when Hunk maneuvered him onto the bed, Lance didn't stir except to shift deeper into the blankets Hunk wrapped around him.

For a long time, Hunk sat on the floor and watched Lance breathe. Now that Lance was still and not turning away from him, Hunk could see clearly.

Lance looked bad.

This couldn't just be homesickness. There had to be more. Depression? Maybe. Some other kind of space illness? Completely possible. Some combination of illnesses? That was likely too. Hunk tried to tack down symptoms in his mind, but all it came back to was that Lance seemed off. Off in nearly every way. When was the last time Lance had made a joke in training? Or the last time Lance had flirted with anyone? Or the last time Lance had seemed excited to do or see anything?

Hunk couldn't remember.

With his head buzzing with worry, Hunk stretched out on his floor and stared up at his ceiling. He had left the light on, the idea of being in darkness setting him on edge.

He didn't think he would sleep, but it was late and recent events had been emotionally draining for him too. Still, he was surprised when he opened his eyes and realized he had fallen asleep on his floor. A gentle warmth caught him off guard. He had a blanket draped around him. Knowing it could only have been Lance's doing, Hunk's gaze shot to the bed.

He was met with emptiness.

Lance was gone.

* * *

"Help me. Help me."

"You are weak. You are stupid."

"Come outside. Come outside…"

* * *

Hunk didn't even bother changing out of his pajamas, he ran out of his room, tripping on the blanket on his way out.

Once in the hall, Hunk spun in a circle, unsure of where to go.

Where would Lance go? Back to his room? To the observation deck? Maybe to Blue's hangar?

Hunk ran for Lance's room first. He found the door unlocked and the bed empty. Hunk spun in place, checking the corners of the room even though he knew Lance wasn't there.

_Where is he?_

There were too many options and he was only one person. He needed help. Hunk ran for Shiro's room. When his frantic knocking was meant with silence, he realized his mistake.

They were supposed to be up early training this morning. Shiro must already be up and about.

Hunk ran for the training deck.

As his bare feet slapped against the cold floor, he tried to keep his breathing in control. He had been trying to tell himself that Lance was okay and even now, he wanted to think he was overreacting and that Lance had just gone ahead to training.

But last night Lance had cried so brokenly….

Hunk sped up, forgetting about keeping his breathing steady.

* * *

Shiro had a headache. He hadn't slept well the past few nights and he was starting to feel the exhaustion creeping in.

As he did his morning stretches with Keith warming up across from him, he really thought through the benefits of just going back to bed. It's not like anyone liked training early. Pidge was always late. Hunk wasn't much better and Lance had actually missed their last early morning session entirely. Shiro hadn't even gone to find Lance last time. To be honest, Lance had been looking tired and Shiro thought the boy probably needed the rest. He certainly didn't want any of them to get sick out here.

Shiro was preparing to suggest a light jog to start off the morning when Hunk burst onto the training deck. Sweaty, out of breath and in his pajamas, Hunk quickly scanned the room before his eyes landed on Shiro.

Something happened. Something bad. Shiro's mind grasped the obvious.

"Hunk?" Keith stood up.

"What's going on?" Shiro kept his voice even.

Hunk took a few gulps of air before he finally spoke.

"I think Lance needs help."

* * *

They hadn't understood and it took too long to explain. Hunk couldn't get out the right words, but luckily, Shiro seemed to catch on.

Lance had been acting off. Then he turned up in Hunk's room, inconsolable and now he was missing.

"Did you check the observation deck?" Shiro asked. "He goes there a lot, right?"

"I'm going now, but I need help looking everywhere else. Lance, he…" Hunk’s eyes darted away before they landed back on Shiro. "I know something is really wrong."

Shiro had swallowed down the anxiety that crept up his esophagus. He gave a curt nod and then he gave out orders. Keith was sent to find Coran, hopefully the Altean could scan the ship for Lance. Hunk was going to the observation deck and Shiro was going to check the Lions’ hangar.

Before splitting up, Shiro sat a hand on Hunk's shoulder.

"We'll find him. It will be okay."

Hunk nodded. He had to believe that.

* * *

Lance wasn’t on the observation deck. Hunk took note of the haphazard pile of blankets. It looked like Lance had left here in a hurry last night.

Hunk was jogging through the ship when he turned a corner too fast and caught Keith in the shoulder.

“Sorry,” Hunk gasped out an apology.

“Coran picked up his biosignature.” Keith spoke in a rush. “Lance is on the deck below us.”

Hunk stumbled over his feet, redirecting himself to the lift that would take him to Lance. Keith stayed close, Hunk could hear his harsh breaths as they made their way. _Keith must have been running fast._ The thought added to Hunk’s nervous energy.

“He could have moved though,” Hunk said between his own rough breaths.

“He wasn’t moving.”

That could mean many things. Lance was hurt, Lance had passed out... Hunk did not have time to dwell on it. They ran out of the lift and they both sped around the corner to find their teammate standing in the corridor.

Not hurt. Not passed out.

Just standing. Standing and staring. Lance had his left hand out on the wall in front of him, apparently holding himself up.

Hunk was so relieved at seeing his friend in one piece, that he didn't realize there was a problem until Keith was grabbing his arm.

"Wait. Look," Keith warned. Hunk's eyes followed Keith's gesture down Lance’s right arm to his hand.

Lance was holding a knife from the kitchen.

Hunk had just used that one to make dinner the night before.

"Lance?" Hunk felt like he was choking.

Lance was staring. Staring, staring, staring. At nothing. But… Hunk followed his friend's gaze. What Hunk thought was just a part of the wall, turned out to be a control panel.

The panel for the airlock.

Lance’s fingers were brushing against the button that would open the outer door.

“Lance!” Hunk shouted, real fear gripping his heart. Lance _hated_ the airlock. He was scared of it, he wouldn’t do this. He wouldn’t stand there, not saying anything with his hand nearly pressing the buttons. “Lance, please!” he wasn’t surprised at the way his voice cracked at the end, but he wished it hadn’t.

Blinking, Lance turned his head. And he _saw_ Hunk. Recognition crossed his face, but then something else happened.

Lance looked past Hunk. He looked far to the right, down the corridor.

And Lance looked terrified.

Hunk glanced back. There was nothing there. He turned back around.

“Hey,” Hunk inched forward, keeping his hand on the wall, grounding himself to something. “What’s wrong?”

“You don’t see it?” Lance’s voice came out hoarse and cracking. “You don’t see it?” he repeated, sounding lost and scared.

“There’s nothing there,” Keith murmured from behind Hunk’s shoulder.

Space was weird and Hunk glanced back again, making sure that the corridor was empty. He wasn’t going to overrule the possibility of invisible beings, but then why could only Lance see them?

Lance dropped the knife. Hunk jumped at the clatter it made on the floor. Lance looked back to the control panel, to his fingers pausing on the button.

“You don’t hear it, do you?” Lance whispered. Hunk crept closer.

“I don’t.” Hunk stopped a few feet away. He saw Keith quickly duck down and grab the knife off the floor before stepping back again.

“It said I should go outside.”

“Please don’t,” Hunk whispered automatically.

“I thought it would stop if I did. I thought if I was brave enough.”

“Lance,” Hunk shook his head as he reached out, slowly, slowly along the wall.

“I’m not. Because I can’t do it.” Lance’s fingers twitched.

Unable to bear it a moment longer, Hunk pushed forward and clutched Lance’s fingers in his hand. He had put pressure in the movement, thinking Lance wouldn’t be compliant, but his friend let his hand be pushed away and Hunk worried he had ended up hurting him.

“You are brave,” Hunk brushed his thumb over his friend's knuckles. Lance shook his head and his face crumpled as fresh tears sprang to his eyes.

Lance let out a great sob before falling sideways into Hunk’s arms. Lance cried hard, soaking Hunk’s shoulder in tears. Hunk tried to calm him, rubbing his back and trying to say it would be okay, but his words got lost in his throat.

“I think something is wrong with me,” Lance choked out. “Something, something, something is-” Lance broke off in a harsh sob.

“We’re going to help you,” Hunk forced out. It was a promise.

A promise that he desperately hoped he could keep.

* * *

They moved slowly to the infirmary.

Hunk shuffled along, stopping every few feet to shush Lance. Because Lance… Lance was seeing something.

Something was there.

And it must have kept getting closer, because Lance kept flinching and he soon wrestled his hands away from Hunk's hold so he could cover his ears.

Finally, Lance squeezed his eyes shut and let Hunk guide him the rest of the way to the infirmary. Keith had run ahead to let Coran know what was happening. Then he ran back to them, hovering and watching. Hunk noticed the way he still held the kitchen knife. His thumb restlessly tapping against the handle.

Hunk wished he'd put it away, but it seemed Keith hadn't thought to take it back to the kitchen.

Hunk was relieved when they finally made it to the infirmary and got Lance sitting down on an exam table.

Coran was there and he patted his shoulder and Hunk was glad to have reinforcements. They would figure this out and Lance would get better. Everything would be fine.

Coran clicked his tongue and gently called Lance's name. Lance's eyes fluttered open and he stared at Coran. The Altean smiled softly.

"Hands down, my boy," Coran motioned to Lance's palms covering his ears. Lance slowly slipped his arms down. His breathing increased, but he resolutely stared at Coran. "Keith says you saw something that nobody else could see and that you heard something that nobody else could hear?" Coran spoke slowly and he leaned in close, listening for Lance's response.

"Yeah," Lance forced out.

"When was the last time you slept?" Coran lightly put his hand on Lance's shoulder.

Lance was shaking his head as soon as the question was out of Coran's mouth.

"How long has this been happening?" Coran was choosing his words carefully, talking slower than Lance had ever heard him

Lance shook his head again. How long had this been happening? He didn't know for sure. It felt like both a long and short time. Keeping track of days going past was already difficult in space.

"Can you tell me what you're seeing then?"

Again, Lance shook his head.

"Why not?" Coran asked. Lance's eyes shot to the side, looking to the far corner of the room, before dragging them back to the Altean's face. Coran turned, glancing back to where Lance's gaze had landed. Lance made a distressed noise in the back of his throat. Coran turned back to Lance slowly. He considered the boy carefully, noting the real fear there.

"I know this might seem difficult, but don't be afraid. Relax." Coran turned to Keith. "I need you to go get some things for me." Keith nodded and then Coran turned to Hunk. "Let's all remain calm.”

Hunk nodded and tried to stop fidgeting with his hands.

"We'll get this all sorted out," Coran smiled and Hunk couldn't help but think it looked forced.

* * *

Lance was so tired. Too tired to even discern what the voices were saying to him anymore. It sounded like mumbled jargon going on in the background. He was trying to look at Coran and not at that thing that formed in the corner.

Nobody else could see it. Nobody else reacted to it. Keith had walked right through one of its dark shadow arms on his way out without anything happening to him.

It wasn't there.

But if it wasn't there, then what did that mean? What was happening to him?

Lance was so lost in thought, he missed Keith's return with Shiro at his side and Coran's gentle explanation. Before he knew what was going on, something was being slipped onto his head.

Lance jerked in surprise. Coran's hands lifted away from his hair and he grabbed Lance's elbows to keep him from jumping from the table.

"It's just the headset. You've used it before. I'm just going to use it to have a look at what you're seeing, alright?" Coran was patting his arms now and Lance got the impression that he had already explained this. Lance felt himself nod and then the hands were gone from his arms and the device was slipped onto his head.

Lance watched Coran, focusing on the way the man pressed a few buttons before slipping a device over his own head. "Just relax," Coran prompted before closing his own eyes.

Lance didn't relax.

But he did look to that damn corner.

It had gotten closer and now that he was looking at it, the dark figure began to move again. It made a crying sound as it went. Like someone was being hurt, like someone needed help. It was moving toward Shiro. What if it was real? What if it was going to hurt someone? Lance had to-

"No." Coran blocked his view. The man had moved closer, obscuring Lance's vision. He had also removed the headset from his own head. "No," Coran repeated. He then cleared his throat. "Just look at me for now, look here." Coran motioned for Hunk to move closer, further blocking Lance's view of the room.

Lance stared at Coran. He saw the worry there, the fear.

"You saw it? You saw it too?" Lance gasped out.

"Yes," Coran spoke so slowly, "and I'm so sorry. That must be frightening." Coran cleared his throat again and he glanced at Hunk before going on. "But believe me when I tell you, there is nothing there. It is only in your mind."

Lance knew it. He knew something was wrong. Even when things got confusing, he'd realized it. He was hearing things that weren't there. He was seeing things that weren't there.

Hot tears sprang to his eyes and he felt them spill over immediately.

Hunk and Coran tried to talk to him, to soothe him. He thought Shiro was saying something too, but it was so hard to hear them.

Lance sobbed so loudly it almost drowned out all the voices clamoring in his ears.

Almost.

* * *

They put Lance in a pod.

He had been inconsolable at the time and Coran had said it would be for the best.

Since Coran was the only one that had seen what Lance had seen, Hunk had to trust his judgement.

"He needs rest." Coran said as Lance cried into his shoulder. "I can sedate him or he can go into the pod."

It was the promise of dreamless unconsciousness that led Lance to nod, agreeing to the cryopod.

Even though he agreed, Lance couldn't seem to stop crying and he hesitated before the pod.

"I know you don't like them," Hunk muttered as Lance grabbed his friend's sleeve and twisted up the fabric in his fist. "But, I think it will make you feel better."

Lance had looked back, not at the encouraging faces of Coran or Shiro, but back at the corner of the room.

With a shudder, he turned back around, let go of Hunk's sleeve and stepped onto the small platform.

He was staring at the floor when it activated and Hunk thought he had never seen him look so lost.

"It’s going to be okay," Hunk whispered too late.

Lance couldn't hear him anymore.

* * *

"There are no toxins, no out of place chemicals, no parasites and no signs of infection," Coran reported.

"So then, what? Is he just tired?"

"He did seem exhausted, but I do not think that is the cause," Coran pulled at his moustache, "I'm certain it did not help matters though."

"So it's not an outside factor? And it's not some… space anomaly?" Shiro raised an eyebrow. He was staring over Coran's shoulder, trying to decipher the readings coming through on the computer. Hunk was standing near the pod, studying Lance's form, he hadn't found the will to walk away just yet.

Pidge had only just made an appearance and she was standing by Hunk, shocked to find out what had happened while she overslept in her lab.

"If it is, it's nothing I've ever heard of. There's no energy readings of any kind." Coran hummed thoughtfully. "Let's say Lance could see something that was existing on another plane, there should still be trace amounts of energy, some weakness in space and time that he is seeing through."

"What does his brain scan look like?" Shiro sounded as though he had been trying not to ask that question.

Coran brought up a new screen showing the most current readings. He hummed and then with a few more clicks brought up another image.

"Oh," Coran whispered.

"What is it? Wait- these readings are different. Are they both Lance's?" Shiro motioned to the two contrasting images.

"Yes," Coran pursed his lips before continuing. "This one is from the first time he ever went in the pod and this is one now. The chemical levels have changed."

"Looks like dopamine."

Coran and Shiro both jumped, having not realized that Pidge had ducked around their arms to get a look at the computer.

"I mean, I can't read the Altean, but there's this image of the molecular structure to the side." Pidge pointed. "Yeah, dopamine. He's got too much."

"You know brain chemistry too, Pidge?" Shiro had a rush of relief and anxiety spike through him at the same time. It was good if she knew, but if something was wrong with Lance's brain…

"A little." She shuffled her feet. "Matt believed that our most powerful computers couldn't be hacked, so I looked into it. He wasn't right exactly. Our minds can be altered. Too little dopamine could be a sign of Parkinson's, but too much…" Pidge furrowed her brow. She reached forward and enlarged the image of Lance's brain before switching back to the display of molecular structures. "Not just depression. Psychosis. Shiro," Pidge looked up. "Schizophrenia. It could be schizophrenia. He's hallucinating, right? And Lance is within that age range when people start developing symptoms." Pidge scrolled through more images, flicking away what she didn't want. "His glutamate is off too."

Pidge's hand fell away. "This doesn't just happen though. It develops over time."

"But he _has_ been off for a while; I should have done something earlier." Hunk walked forward, peering at the readouts on the computer.

"But it usually takes a few years. Though, I mean, the first stages are usually hard to discern from depression. Hunk?" Pidge turned to her worried friend. "You've known him longest."

Hunk bit his lip. "Lance could get homesick pretty bad. Even at the Garrison. I didn't think it was that unusual." Hunk had balled his hands into fists. "But I knew something was definitely wrong once we got out here. He just seemed to get worse and worse."

"Well," Coran clapped his hands. "Now that we know, what is the cure on earth? The pod can stabilize his brain chemistry for now, so no problem there. Is that all we need to do?"

He was met with an awkward silence. Pidge spoke up first.

"Coran, you don't understand." Pidge fidgeted. "There's not a cure on earth."

"Oh," Coran pursed his lips, his enthusiasm faltering.

"There's treatments, but there's still a lot of research being done. The pod would probably not be a permanent fix. If this is what it is, Lance will just… have it." Pidge stared at the ground and shuffled her feet.

"Coran," Shiro finally broke in. "Just because there's no cure on Earth, that doesn't mean he can't find a cure out here, right?" Shiro had a set frown on his face.

"Well," Coran began, "I suppose…"

"Okay, you have your readouts, you say the pod can balance his brain chemistry, you can scan him and figure it out, right?"

"Shiro," Pidge muttered.

"No,” Shiro cut her off, “we have a whole universe. We can find something to help him."

Pidge had never heard Shiro sound like that. Like he was struggling to gain control of a situation that was way beyond anyone's control. Pidge shot a look at Hunk. She knew from his expression that he could see it too.

Shiro was scared.

"Coran?" Shiro prompted. The Altean cleared his throat before speaking.

"I will see what I can do."

* * *

Lance didn't know what was going on.

Cold had seeped into his bones and made a home there. He would never be warm again.

What had happened?

He had been scared before. He had been trying to stop the voices.

Right.

Had he made it outside the castle? Out into space? It felt like he had. That would explain the cold and the feeling of floating.

Not floating. Falling.

Lance stumbled. He swept out his arms, not sure if he was batting away some threat or trying desperately not to fall into nothing.

Hands grabbed his arms.

A voice in his ear.

Lance jerked away from the sound. He was so sick of listening. It was confusing and it was scary and he just wanted it to stop. Stop. Stop. Stop.

_“Stop.”_

Silence.

“It’s me,” came the quiet response. “It’s Hunk.”

Lance blinked rapidly, finally bringing his world into focus. Hunk was there, along with Shiro, Pidge and Coran hovering in the background. Waking up from the pod was disorienting, but as he gathered himself, he realized that the room was staying silent. No voices. Nothing lurking in the corner.

Lance sunk to his knees. Hunk followed him, keeping him from tipping over. “Thank you,” Lance rasped out, not sure who he was thanking, but overwhelmed in relief. He sagged into Hunk’s embrace, relishing the quiet.

They let him stay that way for a long time. Nobody wanted to break the silence. It seemed like Lance hadn’t been able to relax in a long time.

Finally, Coran cleared his throat.

“Let’s move to the exam table, I would like to do a scan and there are probably a few things to discuss.”

Hunk agreed and, moving slowly, he pulled Lance to standing and walked with him.

Lance kept taking deep breaths and he wondered when was the last time he had felt like he could really breathe. He was sitting on the exam table, breathing and holding Hunk’s hand absently when Coran cleared his throat again.

“Shiro,” Coran smiled gently. “Would you like to start?”

Lance blinked and looked around at them all.

“Start?” Lance mumbled. Shiro stepped forward, forcing a pained smile on his face.

“Lance,” he spoke carefully. “We have to talk.”

* * *

Lance stared.

He heard what they were saying. He listened to Pidge talk about chemicals in his brain. He confirmed it when they asked if he had been seeing things, hearing things, if he had been feeling off…

And it made sense.

Something was wrong with him. Something big and something scary.

But schizophrenia?

That was too much. That couldn’t be it.

Lance dropped Hunk’s hand.

But didn’t it make sense? Didn’t it all add up? He was seeing things that weren’t there. He was hearing voices. He thought he was going crazy.

Apparently, he was.

“I don’t- I’m not-” Lance’s voice died. He didn’t know what he wanted to say. Hunk grabbed his hand again, but he pulled away.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Hunk whispered.

“No, it’s _not_ ,” Lance snapped. “How is it okay? There’s no cure, there’s no- my brain is actually broken!”

“There’s treatment,” Shiro stepped in. “The pod can regulate the chemicals in your brain and Coran is going to look into creating medication. You won’t have to always be in the pod.”

He hunched over, nearly folding in half. Why could he never have time to just breathe?

“Lance,” Shiro softly tapped the back of his hand. “It’s a big universe. We’re going to find a way to help you.”

Lance glanced up, through his bangs he saw Pidge shooting a glance at Hunk and he saw the way she shook her head slightly. Her gaze shifted and she caught Lance staring. She bit her lip before stepping forward.

“Hey,” she spoke quietly, “It’s not a death sentence. I know it sounds… scary, but you can still live your life. It’s going to be okay.”

Hunk was nodding. “Pidge is right. It’s going to be okay.”

Lance wanted to smile at them. He wanted to agree with them. Now that they knew what the problem was, they could move forward. It was a good thing.

He forced a nod before tears began streaming down his face.

He didn’t sob loudly. He didn’t shout or speak out. But he cried silently. Eventually, he let Hunk pull him into his arms, where he quietly soaked his friend’s shoulder in tears once more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A gentle reminder that I do try to portray schizophrenia respectfully and as accurately as I can. However, as my own experience is limited. I'm sure I do fall short. 
> 
> Please excuse mistakes and enjoy the second chapter.

The pod was able to regulate his brain chemistry, but, as Pidge said, there were probably a lot of factors that contributed to schizophrenia and the pod most likely wasn’t going to solve everything.

It wasn’t a cure.

So when he was training and he heard the faint calling of his name that wasn’t coming from any member of his team, he could only do his best to ignore it.

The voices sounded real enough. And when they were being nice, it wasn’t so bad.

They made it hard to focus though.

And he slipped up and his shots missed their marks. Again and again. When Shiro finally called an end to the session, Lance leaned against the wall and sunk to the floor. He stared away at the ground, telling himself that he wasn’t overhearing voices talking nearby. Hunk joined him, sitting next to him and quietly waiting. When Lance offered no explanation, Hunk cleared his throat.

“Are you not feeling well?” Hunk was choosing his words carefully and they came out stilted and wrong sounding.

Lance pulled his helmet off his head and ran his fingers through his sweaty hair. He'd allowed Hunk to trim it, but the bangs were still too long. Lance tugged on them. The action didn’t help to ground him. He felt Hunk stiffen beside him. Hunk would never admit it, but Lance knew he made his friend nervous. Like Hunk was just waiting for Lance to freak out and run from the room.

He couldn’t blame him for being scared.

Lance was scared too.

“I thought I heard someone call my name,” Lance said in a rush.

“Well,” Hunk bit his lip, “we were all talking to each other-”

“No,” Lance interrupted his friend. “ _Someone else_. I heard my name.”

“Oh,” Hunk nodded. There was a moment of silence before Hunk tentatively wrapped an arm around his friend’s shoulders. “Okay.”

Shiro approached them cautiously. He had been standing to the side, listening, waiting for the right moment.

“How are you feeling, Lance?” Shiro asked, as if he hadn’t been eavesdropping already.

Lance only shook his head and then Hunk was quickly explaining, telling Shiro what Lance had just told him. Lance let them talk. He hadn’t even been out of the pod for that many days. Was his brain really not capable of functioning normally at all?

“Lance,” Shiro was talking too loud now. “Coran might have some medication ready for you to try. Let’s go see him.” He put out his hand and, after a moment, Lance took it, but he found that he couldn’t look Shiro in the eye.

Along with feeling broken and inadequate, Lance felt the familiar feeling of shame crawl under his skin.

It seemed like no matter how hard he tried, he was going to cause problems for those around him.

* * *

It took Coran a few tries to get the medication right.

After a few trials, they found one that regulated Lance’s brain chemistry and also didn’t have too many adverse effects.

Nothing completely worked though. Nothing made him normal.

He heard things that weren’t there. Sometimes he saw things that made him hide away and cry.

Lance had been on the meds for weeks when Coran found him huddled in his favorite blanket on the observation deck, staring hard out at the stars.

“You are up very late, my boy.”

Lance didn’t answer right away. He shuffled around in the thick comforter. “Something was in my room,” he said flatly.

Coran hummed. “And what about here? You feel safe here?”

Instead of answering, Lance pointed out the window. “Is there a kind of orangey nebula right there?”

Coran peered out into the stars, he blinked a few times before turning back to Lance with a careful smile in place. “There is not.”

Lance frowned.

“Here, my boy.” Coran walked to a console to the side of the room. “Let’s try something.” There were a few clicks and then there was an image projected throughout the room. Stars surrounded Lance and spread out around him. Coran tapped away at his computer and the image changed, flattening itself and projecting on the window, overlaying the stars. The nebula that was almost always there for Lance, was overlaid with a different series of bright stars.

“This is what the view looks like. Tell me, do you see the nebula in the projection?”

Lance shook his head. What he was seeing, didn’t translate to what Coran was showing him. “I just see the stars.”

Coran hummed and pulled at his mustache before a genuine smile spread across his face.

“Well, that is _something_.”

* * *

Lance felt dumb walking around with his helmet on most of the time. But it was much better than the alternative.

Pidge was the one that reconfigured his helmet’s visor to work more like a viewscreen. Everything Lance was seeing was filtered through a lens and projected in front of his eyes for him. His hallucinations did not extend to video footage. At least, not the visual ones.

He could still hear things and sometimes he thought someone had patched into his comm and was trying to tell him something.

They sounded like they needed help sometimes. He should find them, go outside and check for them…

A memory of standing outside the airlock, Hunk crying…

Lance went to Coran, asking for a change of dosage.

Time limped on. They fought battles, they helped people. Thankfully, Blue seemed to be understanding and when he was with her, he felt safer. Even when the corners of her cockpit turned dark on occasion. He had Blue to help ground him, to calm him.

“If I see them, can you see them?” Lance whispered to Blue one day. Afterall, he shared a bond with his lion and when they fought, it felt like they could see through each other’s eyes sometimes.

Blue’s answer was a protective growl and then a wave of security washed over him. The shadow figure receded, the voices quieted.

“You still trust me, girl?” Lance whispered softly. There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation when Lance felt the answer ring out in his head. Not like the voices he heard, but real and full of affection and pride.

_Of course._

It was a small glimmer of hope. While Lance’s life seemed to be mostly unraveling faster than he could put it back together, he still had Blue. He still had things to hold onto.

Lance wouldn't say he was happy with the way things were, but he was surviving.

He supposed he couldn't ask for more than that.

* * *

Back when things were still sinking in, Lance had stayed in the infirmary, closely monitored by the nearby computer. Coran and Hunk had stayed nearby in cots of their own.

When he had first left the infirmary and gone back to his room, Hunk had said he would stay and that they could have a sleepover, like when they were younger. But Lance had told him it was fine.

Because Lance felt like he couldn’t breathe. There were too many people watching him, worrying… Being scared. He didn’t know if they were scared for him or of him. Maybe both. He felt claustrophobic under their scrutiny. He took some time to be alone. To be alone to process and to grieve for himself. Maybe it was wallowing, but Lance needed the time all the same.

Hunk didn’t suggest a sleepover again. Even when some time passed and it was obvious that Lance was having trouble sleeping. Even when Lance wandered the ship at night and he knew that if he went to Hunk, his friend would talk to him and try to make him feel better. Lance kept to himself.

Until one day, he couldn’t.

Lance was staring down the hall, at something that wasn’t there. It was small and hopped around a bit, like a playful cat. It blinked in and out of existence, but it was there. Lance had taken his helmet off to scratch his head when the cat-thing caught his eye. It stayed far away and at least it wasn’t screaming or crying at him, but the fact that he was seeing it at all…

He hated this.

“Hey,” came the quiet voice behind him. Lance jumped and turned slowly to see Hunk shuffling his feet in the hall. “Did you get tired of wearing the helmet? I figure, that must suck, I mean, they’re pretty comfortable, but wearing it all the time, must uh, it must suck.” Hunk grimaced at his inability to find the right words. He had been watching Lance stare at nothing for a while and, though he didn’t want to admit it, it was unnerving.

Lance sighed.

“I know there’s nothing there,” Lance cleared his throat, it felt like he hadn’t been talking a lot lately and his voice came out rough. “You don’t see anything, right?”

Hunk glanced down the empty hallway, behind Lance’s shoulder.

“No,” Hunk lowered his voice, “is it something scary?”

“No, actually,” Lance slipped his helmet back on over sweaty hair. “Just weird.”

A moment of silence passed and Lance frowned. They had never found it difficult to talk to one another before. Lance stared at Hunk, he watched as the other boy fidgeted with his fingers.

Lance couldn't stand it.

“Are you- Am I scary now?” Lance felt his voice catch unexpectedly. Hunk’s eyes went wide.

“No! No, no, no. You’re not scary.” Hunk was waving his arms in the air.

“But you’re scared of me.” Lance swallowed thickly. “I scare you.”

“Not of you. But- I’m scared _for_ you, Lance. Really.”

Lance gave a half shrug and tried to move past his friend, but Hunk grabbed his elbow.

“Hey, look,” Hunk squeezed his arm, “when things were really bad, even when you had the knife that time, I wasn’t scared of you. I just,” Hunk’s hand fell away, “I was scared you were going to hurt yourself. I didn’t think you would hurt me.”

“Really?” Lance whispered. Because he didn’t feel like he was a danger to his friends, but sometimes he got confused and so frightened, he worried what they thought of him. He worried they thought he was an unsafe person to be around.

“Really,” Hunk insisted. “You’re my friend. That hasn’t changed.”

Lance lifted the helmet up so he could wipe his watering eyes. “Thank you,” he forced out in a muffled voice. Hunk nodded and set a hand on his back.

“You’re always my friend, Lance. No matter what.”

Lance nodded as more tears sprang to his eyes. Hunk patted his back and told him it was alright, but Lance ended up crying in the hallway for a long time anyway.

Hunk didn’t leave his side.

* * *

It was supposed to be a celebration.

The Paladins were meeting with the Lamreth, the people of a recently liberated planet. There was going to be a formal dinner party that they were expected to attend. Nobody seemed to think Lance should go. He hadn’t been around many people besides his team since his diagnosis and everyone seemed concerned.

“If it’s too hard, you can stay behind,” Hunk reminded him for the tenth time. Shiro had told him the same thing earlier, encouraging him not to push himself. But the truth was, Lance was getting tired of it. It was like they were waiting for him to self-destruct or break and it was getting on his nerves. Even though Hunk said that Lance didn’t scare him, it was obvious that Hunk got nervous around him sometimes.

So he wanted to prove that he could attend a dinner party. He could be _normal_.

“It’s not a big deal. I’ll keep my helmet on and I’ll stay close.”

Hunk had nodded before he forced a grin.

“Okay. It should be fun.”

Lance nodded, hoping he seemed confident enough.

“Fun,” he repeated quietly.

* * *

Lance realized it was a mistake within a moment of entering the large hall.

The Lamreth were a tall, pale people with flat noses and two sets of eyes. They towered over the Paladins and if not for their gentle voices, they would have seemed quite intimidating. However, their stature wasn’t what caused Lance to stop in his tracks.

As it was a celebration, the Lamreth were all wearing their formal attire. The hall was filled with tall figures in long dark robes, many of which had their hoods up.

Lance’s hands flew to his helmet. He was wearing it. What he was seeing was there. A dark-robed figure moved toward their group and Lance was backpedaling, fear taking control.

_Not real._

But it was.

He could hear sharp laughter ring out in his ears.

Lance felt his throat move. He might have made some kind of noise. A strong arm wrapped around his shoulders and he jumped, but he was unable to move.

“It’s me, my boy. Come here.” Coran was dragging him from the room. Even though Lance struggled, Coran had a firm grip on him. The Altean called out some excuse about not feeling well over his shoulder and steered Lance roughly out of sight.

“Just breathe, it’s alright.”

“Coran,” Lance managed to choke out. “Coran,” his voice broke. He pushed against the arm that was holding him close. “They were real.”

“Yes, but they were just the Lamreth.” Coran was patting his shoulder now. “I apologize, I was not aware of their formal attire.”

“You saw them,” Lance was trying so hard to breathe.

“Yes, they were real. Keep your helmet on.”

Lance hadn’t realized he had begun to push at it. He was panicking and he was just so tired of the weight.

“You did not hallucinate them.”

Lance stared around checking the corners of the room. Underneath the visor, if he looked carefully, he thought he saw a gathering darkness forming near his feet.

Lance swore softly under his breath.

“No, please no.” He stumbled, the action causing him to panic more. He would have bolted forward if Coran hadn’t readjusted his grip on him.

“Try to remain calm, look through the visor. There’s nothing there.”

Lance swallowed down his fear and he nodded.

_Nothing there. Nothing there. Nothing there._

* * *

Lance knocked his heels together. There was a lump of a shadow in the corner of the infirmary that he knew wasn’t there. He kept slipping his helmet on and off, watching the form vanish from his sight. It kept forming in the lower corner of his eye though.

He had been sitting quietly while Coran ran some scans, when Shiro entered the infirmary.

“What happened?” Shiro asked, voice too forceful to be calm.

“Just an unexpected event, everything is fine,” Coran insisted. Shiro and Coran then began talking quickly, largely ignoring Lance’s presence in the room.

Lance turned away from the dark mass in the corner. Shiro and Coran would have said something if that shadow thing was really there.

_That’s not real,_ Lance thought, forcing himself to stay calm. He drummed his fingers against his kneecaps. That was real. Shiro and Coran were real. He should really make an effort to listen to them. They were talking about him after all.

“The pods can help balance his brain chemistry, but he shouldn’t spend that much time in the pod.”

“But you and Allura were in the pod for so much longer.”

“Yes, and I don’t know about any adverse effects from that _yet_. But if he spent every other night in the pod, you will notice a difference.”

“But it will help.”

Coran sighed. “Being taken in and out of stasis… Shiro, he's not going to age at the same rate as the rest of you.”

Shiro’s hand looked weird. Like there was some smoke creeping up around the wrist.

Lance frowned, tilting his head so that he could watch from under the visor.

“But it will help. And until we find something more permanent, it might have to be what we have to work with.”

“Shiro, the Lamreth attire looked like one of his hallucinations. It was triggering. He would have been fine otherwise.” Because Coran _knew_ what Lance saw. He was the only one with that terrible privilege.

Lance grabbed Shiro's wrist.

The room went silent as Lance stared hard and blinked. After a few moments, he took a deep breath and looked up at Shiro.

"Do you-" Shiro cleared his throat. "Did you see something?" Shiro began to turn his head. Almost to that corner. That damn corner that was starting to bleed black shadowy tendrils into the rest of the room.

"Don't look." Lance dug his fingers into metal. "Don't interact with it. I know it's not real, but if you look at it, I might not know for sure."

"Okay," Shiro turned back to Lance. "What can I do?"

Lance loosened his grip on Shiro’s wrist, but did not let go.

"Distract me. Talk to me. What are you guys talking about? Say it all again. I'm listening. I just keep missing parts."

It sounded like someone else was having a conversation on the other side of the room. He did his best to ignore it and focus on the people he knew were there.

“We were just discussing the best treatment plan for you.” Coran moved, blocking Lance’s view of that corner.

Lance’s frown deepened. That didn’t feel completely right.

“I embarrassed you.” Lance looked Shiro in the eye. He didn’t miss the way the man backed up, pulling his wrist from Lance’s grasp. “I embarrass you.” Lance looked away.

Shiro cleared his throat and answered too late.

“No, no. Lance, you’re not an embarrassment. You’re a member of this team.” He took a deep breath. “Look, I understand what it’s like to not be sure what’s real. Sometimes I think I see things too.”

That was true. Lance had seen Shiro have his moments of unclarity. So maybe it wasn’t embarrassment exactly. But Shiro had been weird around him for a while and Lance couldn’t explain what was going wrong between them.

“Okay,” Lance looked down at his hands and twisted his fingers together,

“It’s going to be okay, Lance.” Shiro stepped forward and gently tapped his hand. “I promise.”

“Okay,” Lance repeated, not bothering to look up again.

* * *

The voices got louder when he was alone. And at night, when he went to sleep without his helmet on, he could see the dark shapes forming in the corner of the room.

With Lance’s permission, Hunk had now started camping out on his floor, to keep him company, but Lance was always careful not to make any noises of distress, not wanting to wake his friend.

He passed away many nights, watching dark figures move around the corners of the room. He struggled to hold his breath and not make any noise.

One night, he was in bed, trying not to look at the figure looming at the foot of the bed when a sharp scream pierced the air. Lance jolted, letting out a shout of his own and waking his friend from a peaceful slumber.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Lance forced out breathlessly. Hunk was scrambling to sit up, flailing as if fighting something off. When Hunk realized there was no immediate danger, he went still and took a deep breath.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Hunk exhaled. “Are you alright? Was there something scary?” Hunk glanced around the room before bringing the lights up to a dim setting.

Lance breathed and stared at the robed figure at the foot of his bed. It receded in the light, but it didn’t go away. The screaming didn’t continue at least.

Hunk followed his friend’s gaze. Without thinking, Hunk shifted closer to Lance.

“If I could see them too, would it help?” He whispered.

“What do you mean?” Lance didn’t look away from the figure.

“Well, Coran saw them, right? So if I saw them too, maybe they would be less scary?”

Lance shook his head. “You don’t want to see them, Hunk. It wouldn’t help.” Lance licked his dry lips. “I think it would make it worse. If you got scared… that would make them seem more real. I don’t think I would ever be able to tell myself they were just in my head, if you- if you ever interacted with them.”

“Okay,” Hunk whispered. He looked away and shuffled around in his bed. “So, it helps if I just act like nothing is going on?”

“Well, I guess.” Lance fidgeted with his fingers. “Just tell me nothing is there.” Lance settled back down on his side, facing Hunk in the dim light.

“I can do that. Well, I try to do that already, but I’ll tell you as much as you need to hear it.” Hunk scooted closer. “Lance, nothing is there. I don’t see what you're seeing or…” Hunk hesitated, giving Lance a questioning look. “Hear what you're hearing?”

Lance smiled sadly. He hadn’t said anything about the voices going on in the background for a long time. He had hoped Hunk hadn’t noticed that he sometimes struggled to keep track of their conversations over the noise.

“I don’t hear them as much when you’re talking.” Lance closed his eyes. “They just get loud after you fall asleep sometimes.”

Hunk pushed himself so that he was propped up against the wall. “Then I’ll keep watch and I’ll talk until you fall asleep.”

“No,” Lance sat up in bed, “you need to sleep.”

“You do too. No arguing this one.” Despite what Lance thought, Hunk had noticed the dark circles under Lance’s eyes and how his friend struggled to get up in the morning. Hunk knew Lance wasn’t sleeping well. And he was going to do something about it.

Lance flopped back into bed with a sigh. “Hunk,” he complained futilely.

“You want me to talk about engineering or baking? I could talk a lot about either one.”

Lance sighed, but he knew he had lost the argument.

“Baking then.”

Hunk launched into a lengthy explanation of figuring out oven temperatures in space and Lance smiled to himself. As Hunk spoke, the voices quieted. Lance thought the shadows were still in his room, but they stayed still and with Hunk happily talking about alien measuring spoons, he didn’t feel afraid. His nights of not sleeping were finally catching up to him and he felt his eyes fluttering shut.

Lance finally drifted off into the most restful sleep he’d had in ages.

* * *

It was the worst scenario that Lance could think of. They were fighting on the ground, far away from Blue’s calming presence.

And the voices had decided to kick it up a notch today. Lance was calculating his medication dosage in his head while he sniped enemies from the cliff’s edge. He had taken his medication at breakfast at the castle. Then they had gotten involved in this never ending fight on this rocky, tree covered planet. So that had been….

Lance shot down some Galra sentries that were making their way through the trees towards Pidge and Keith.

... twelve hours ago? Wait, had Coran said something at the briefing about the days being longer on this planet? Is that why it felt like it had been about a day and the sun hadn’t set yet?

“Shoot into the wind.”

He knew why he hadn’t heard a lot of Coran’s briefing. He just hadn’t wanted to tell anyone.

“Shoot that tree.”

He had been doing okay. The medication had been working.

But now…

“Throw the bayard.”

He probably needed to adjust his med dosage. Of course, stress didn’t exactly help the situation.

“Throw it.”

“Shut up, shut the hell up,” Lance snapped.

Not his fault that saving the universe was stressful.

“Lance?” A questioning voice came over his comm. Maybe.

“Run away.”

God, he _did_ need to up his med dosage again.

“Throw that rock, see how far it goes.”

Lance kept firing, though a few of his shots went wide. He couldn’t concentrate, it was too loud with high pitched voices talking over each other now.

“Lance, maybe go back to Blue for now. We’ve got this,” maybe Shiro said.

“Fire into the sky.”

Lance stood up from his crouched position and glanced up at the bright blue sky. He shook his head and took a deep breath. Shuffling his feet he kicked a rock over the cliff’s edge and watched it descend into the shrubbery below.

“Jump.”

Lance blinked.

“Jump off the cliff, just jump off the cliff, just jump off the cliff, just do it, just jump.”

Lance sunk back to the ground, feeling as though the air had been knocked out of him. He had walked so close to the edge without meaning to and as he tried to gain control over his thoughts, the voices continued on.

“Just jump. Go ahead. Do it, now.”

“Can you answer me?”

“Don’t use the jetpack, go after the rock.”

“Get the rock you dropped.”

“Hey, are you there?”

“Just fall forward. Take another step.”

“Stop, stop, stop,” Lance hissed out. There was salt in his mouth from tears dripping past his nose and onto his lips.

The voices were screaming.

Lance uselessly clamped his hands over his head, but his helmet wouldn’t allow him to cover his ears and he couldn’t take the helmet off because who knew what he would see without the visor giving him feedback on reality.

“Shut up!”

Hands were on him, and for a brief moment, he thought his hallucinations had finally grabbed hold of him, that they would drag him off the cliff and force him to fall. Lance screamed and fought back.

“It’s me, it’s me, it’s me.” Hands clasped his shoulders and Lance saw the familiar flash of yellow.

“Hunk,” Lance cried.

“Move your feet, move this way.” Hunk was pulling him along, his feet scraped hard against the loose rocks. “Lance,” Hunk spoke slowly, “we have to go. Do you hear me? We have to go right now.”

Lance nodded. If he focused hard enough, Hunk’s voice rose above the others. Lance caught sight of Shiro in the background. He was looking to the right and Lance recognized the stance he was in. Shiro was getting ready for a fight. There must be Galra close by, Lance was endangering them.

Lance tried to catch Shiro’s eye, but their leader never looked his way. Finally, Lance let Hunk lead him away. The voices murmured in the background, but Lance couldn’t tell what they were saying. Hunk squeezed his hand and Lance released the breath he had been holding.

In a blur, Lance was sitting on the floor in Yellow’s cockpit and Hunk was in the pilot seat. Soon they were flying away and Lance swallowed down the nausea he had been feeling creep up his throat.

“I’m sorry,” Lance said in a hushed voice. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

Hunk took a deep breath. He cleared his throat before he began to talk. “What do you want me to talk about? I can-” Hunk quickly wiped at his face and Lance wondered if he had started to cry too. “I can talk about the elements or all the ways to fry food.”

Lance swallowed. “Fry food.”

Hunk launched into his description of deep frying alien vegetables and if his voice shook, Lance didn’t comment on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is just working through some things here. Please do leave a comment! I do like chatting with you all.

**Author's Note:**

> Please do leave a comment!


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